


Perfect

by KaytheJay



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23876161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaytheJay/pseuds/KaytheJay
Summary: Aziraphale gets a fan of his writing.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	Perfect

Aziraphale had invented fanfiction. He’d been writing little snippets of things based off of his favorite books ever since humans first started writing their stories down. There was once that he spent an entire century compiling all of Emily Dickenson’s poems to loop them together through a story. He never shared that with anyone. Mostly because at the time no one else was doing anything like that. They were too busy making original works. And of course, Aziraphale could have passed it off as completely his own. He’d only written the novel based on the poems. He didn’t have to tell anyone that he’d used her poems to come up with it. But he felt wrong not claiming that. So he’d kept it hidden.  
One can only imagine his excitement when websites like fanfiction.net began to appear. He wasn’t weird or alone. There were others who were spending their time writing things based off of things they loved. It could be anything he’d discovered. There were people writing things based on celebrities, books, movies, anything. He even found some that were a combination of real people and fictional characters.  
He found himself, however, quite alone in the so-called fandoms that he wrote for. He found himself perfectly content with that. If they didn’t want to appreciate the books he liked, that was on them. It was a shame, but he wasn’t going to be able to change their minds.  
Through the years, Crowley could tell that it was getting down on Aziraphale. Even in the community of other people who were busy writing and reading things based off of other things, Aziraphale was still alone. Aziraphale always tried to write for the things that he saw were popular, but he could never get into the media. It just was not his thing.  
One night after hours of refreshing Ao3 on repeat, Aziraphale had had it.  
“What is the point of this if no one is going to read it?” Aziraphale asked. “I have more practice at writing than anyone on this bloody website. I’ve been doing this before anyone else started doing it. This is a waste of my time.” Aziraphale closed the laptop lid, put it on his night stand, and crossed his arms.  
“Why does it all of a sudden mean so much to you to have an audience?” Crowley asked. “You’ve never cared about that before.” Aziraphale sighed.  
“I honestly have no idea,” he admitted. “I am an angel,” he shook his head. “I do so much for the world that this little thing shouldn’t matter. It’s selfish, I know.” Crowley shook his head.  
“I don’t think it’s selfish,” he replied. He pulled Aziraphale into a hug. “You work hard,” Crowley said. “You deserve just a little bit of recognition. Even if it is for this thing that you do that feels stupid to you. I don’t think it’s stupid.” Aziraphale pulled away.  
“You don’t?” Crowley shook his head and kissed the angel.  
“I don’t. I promise.”  
***  
Later that night, after Aziraphale had fallen asleep, Crowley crept out of bed and headed for the living room. He opened up his own laptop and pulled up this Ao3 website. By a miracle, he was able to create his account right away. He was careful to pick a username that Aziraphale would not recognize as Crowley.  
He then looked up Aziraphale’s username and clicked on the oldest story. From there, he worked his way forward, leaving kudos and comments on every single one of the works.  
Wow! I didn’t know anyone wrote for this! I’ve been looking for this!  
I really needed this.  
I didn’t know how much I needed this until I had it.  
Among other things, including a full essay on one of them dissecting exactly how much he loved that particular one.  
He wasn’t exactly lying when he said these things. He did love Aziraphale’s writing. He’d always been supportive of it because he knew it meant a lot to the angel. Where the “lying” part came in was when he started talking about the characters specifically. Crowley wasn’t familiar with any of the books that Aziraphale had written about. He hadn’t even heard of half of them. He assumed that they were all older books. Aziraphale had never really liked the more modern way of storytelling, favoring the language of the past. This showed up in his writing as well. So when he made comments such as “[Character] was so in character and I could really tell you spent a lot of time on characterization,” he really didn’t mean it. Maybe it was true. Chances were it was true, but Crowley was only doing it to make Aziraphale feel better about his writing.  
He spent all night doing this. Demons didn’t need sleep, so it was no trouble. Crowley quite enjoyed sleep, but he was willing to sacrifice it for his angel. Especially when Aziraphale was on the verge of quitting writing. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want that at all.  
***  
Crowley was in the middle of making breakfast when he heard Aziraphale stirring, finally awake. He knew that even though the angel had no hope of actually getting any attention at all on Ao3, he was still going to check it first thing. He heard something fall and Aziraphale crashing around the room.  
“Crowley look!” Aziraphale said. He pulled up his inbox on Ao3 and showed that someone had left fifty comments, one for each of the fics that Aziraphale had felt were good enough to post. He had lots of others, but he wasn’t nearly as proud of them as he was the fifty.  
Crowley did look. He didn’t want to let on to the angel that greencarlene was actually Crowley. He knew it would shatter Aziraphale to know that this mysterious stranger was none other than his own partner through eternity. It was much better that it was a stranger.  
Aziraphale spent most of the morning gushing over the comments and reading them out loud to Crowley. Crowley faked enthusiasm as if he didn’t make the comments himself. Aziraphale would discuss with Crowley how to reply to the stranger, and Crowley gave his honest advice. That is, what he would have told Aziraphale if the person were an actual stranger.  
Once he’d finished replying to all the comments, he got started on a new fic. Getting this rush of praise had given Aziraphale the will to write again. Crowley was glad to see it back. He hated the idea of Aziraphale giving up something that he loved ever so much just because no one was giving him any sort of feedback. Aziraphale posted the fic proudly, excited to see what this person’s response would be.  
He spent the time after that refreshing the page. This time, it was with hope instead of despair. He didn’t want to run the risk of missing the second that the person replied. Crowley told Aziraphale that he was going out to set up a surprise to celebrate this mysterious stranger. The excuse was mostly to get himself away from Aziraphale in order to read the work and comment without Aziraphale becoming suspicious that it was Crowley who was leaving the comments. But he did think a little celebration was in order.  
He drove himself to the park first. Give him somewhere he could read without anyone bothering him about it. He left a quick comment as to not be away for much longer than he needed to be. His phone buzzed with a text from Aziraphale.  
Crowley! They replied again! Look!  
With it, Aziraphale had sent a picture of his screen so Crowley could read the comment for himself.  
That’s fantastic, my love, Crowley sent back.  
Crowley found himself in a grocery store trying to figure out how to surprise Aziraphale with a proper celebration. He found where some roses were being sold and quickly grabbed the nicest bouquet he could find. He wandered up and down the aisles and tried to think. What is a good celebration? If it were for him, it would be alcohol. No doubt about it. The angel, however, was much classier than that. He loved drinking, but with something like this he wouldn’t want to get drunk for it.  
Crowley’s eyes landed on a pouch of Aziraphale’s favorite cocoa mix. That is when he had it. Cocoa and crepes. It was perfect. He grabbed a number of the cocoa pouches and quickly went through the store picking up everything they would need for crepes.  
Once he got back home, he forced Aziraphale back into their room so he would not see what Crowley was doing. After a few hours of work, Crowley was satisfied with what he had come up with.  
He’d put the roses in a vase and that was now in the center of their table. He’d artfully placed crepes on plates and had set them across from each other at the table. The good plates that Aziraphale insisted on saving for a special occasion. Crowley put on a playlist of all of Aziraphale’s favorite music. Crowley wasn’t a huge fan of it himself, he prefered music from the 1970’s. But this wasn’t about Crowley. This was about celebrating Aziraphale’s first fan (who did happen to be Crowley but they weren’t going to talk about that). He called Aziraphale out.  
Aziraphale gasped when he saw everything. He felt almost as if Crowley had gone above and beyond for this little celebration. He hummed along to the song that was playing (Handel’s “Messiah”) and sat at the table. He took a deep breath to take in all the smells of everything. He noticed his favorite mug was at the table. He took a sip from it. He closed his eyes as he was filled with the wonderful sensation that came with drinking his favorite cocoa.  
“Crowley, you didn’t have to do this.” Aziraphale said, though he was very thankful that Crowley did. It had been a long time since they’d had crepes.  
“Of course I did!” Came Crowley’s reply. “We’re celebrating!” Aziraphale smiled and took another sip of cocoa.  
Once they’d both finished eating, Crowley put on their dance playlist. Of course there were a few songs that included the gavotte for Aziraphale’s sake, but most of it was more modern. Crowley had been teaching Aziraphale the ways of freestyle dancing that seemed popular. He was still learning to let go and allow himself to do that, but he was working on it for Crowley. Besides, he had to admit, it was quite fun to not have strict rules when it came to dancing.  
Their evening slowed down and Crowley decided it was time for the last song of the night. Crowley decided that John Legend’s “All of Me” was the perfect way to end the night. Wrapped up in each other's arms, whispering sweet nothings and giggling with each other. Even when the song ended, they didn’t pull apart. They continued to sway in each other’s arms even though there was no music. It was, Aziraphale admitted, quite nice. He had never in his life felt so loved, or felt so much love rolling off of Crowley.  
He couldn’t imagine spending this moment with anyone else. It was all just too perfect. Too perfect to be true. And he was an angel. He was supposed to know perfect.  
Later that night, the two stumbled into bed and fell asleep quickly. They both loved this little activity that the humans did, so why wouldn’t they?

**Author's Note:**

> Hits and kudos mean the world to me. Comments fuel me into next week.   
> Find me on Tumblr @justanangelandhisdemon


End file.
